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STATE AND DEMOCRACY
Extending Democracy through Christian Participation
in a Global EthicAlan Race
The Christian relationship to democracy is necessarily ambivalent. Such ambivalence derives not so much from the lack of intellectual consensus among political theorists about the meaning and scope of democracy itself, as from Christian faith’s own theological engagement with the basic conceptual vision of democracy and the Church’s historical involvement with its manifestations. We need to deepen our appreciation of this ambivalence if the contribution of Christian faith towards the next phase of the challenges which confront the democratic sensibility is to be clarified. The challenges arise from the growing multicultural and multifaith shape of religious persistence in democratic societies themselves. In the next phase of democracy’s ‘narrative of an argument’, the plurality of worldviews, religions and cultures raises distinct issues that arise from competition or co-operation over the nature of the cultural values that are to inform democratic vision as such.
I shall comment briefly first on the theological and historical dimensions of the ambivalent relationship of Christian faith to democracy, highlighting its negative and positive sides in each dimension. Following this description of ambivalent relationships, I shall then discuss Christian involvement in the notion of a Global Ethic and the potential which it offers as a kind of bridge or broker between the cluster of ideals at the heart of democratic vision and the roles open to religious and other communities as agencies of civil society in a pluralist context. My argument also recognizes that after a long period of dominance in public affairs secularity must come to realize its own limitations and boundaries, and that this too has profound implications for democracy. I affirm this notwithstanding secularity’s deepening global outreach.
From a Christian theological perspective, democracy is valued, measured and judged in relation to the concept of ‘the kingdom of God’. However, this central concept in Christian social ethics has proved highly elastic, and is open to a wide variety of interpretations. These have ranged from emphasis on the inner life of the spirit to the outer life of society, and from concentration on present this-worldly needs to eschatological other-worldly goals. Throughout Christian history it has been the futurist and other-worldly aspects of the concept of the kingdom of God that have largely been emphasised. At the other end of the scale, the New Testament proclamation of the kingdom of God, relying on its Hebrew legacy, is received as providing a mandate for confronting oppressive relationships in social, political and economic relations, and for speaking and acting more inclusively in order to heal the many de-humanizing effects of dysfunctional society. In relation to the concept of democracy, the former emphasis disassociates Christian social thought more or less from the realities of political and civil society and therefore from any influential relationship to democracy; while the latter emphasis forms a basis for a critique of developments in democracy in so far as these fail to concur with the vision of human relationships inherent in the ideal notion of the kingdom of God.
Turning to the historical perspective, the ambivalence can be illustrated by pointing simply to the facts that Christian faith has acted as both an obstacle to democratic transformation and an agent of it. On the one hand, the obstacle mentality has been manifest in the Christian resistance to democracy at the beginning of the modern period in European history. Following the long period of Christendom in Europe, the birth of democracy coincided with various versions of dissent, some religious but much of it not so. Generally speaking, the churches were perceived as having been too much party to social injustice, privilege, inequality and the ancien régime. Perhaps the nadir of the negative response to democracy was reached in the middle of the nineteenth century, when, in 1864, the encyclical Syllabus Errorum of Pius IX condemned every call for liberalism and democratic transformation. The reasons for this condemnation may have been complex, and especially involving the memory of the Catholic downfall in the aftermath of the French Revolution. But the association in many Christian minds of democracy with Enlightenment secularity was made, and mistrust was sealed.
On the other hand, the positive history of Christian support for democracy can be traced to those religious groupings of political and religious dissent, which originated in England in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, with various forms of Protestantism and Puritanism. These had their eventual fruits both in the English form of democracy, which retained political structural links with the Anglican Church, and in the American expression, which embraced radical separation between church and state. In more recent times, positive Christian support for democracy can be glimpsed, for example, in the role of the churches in many political arenas, and as different from one another as Nicaragua, East Germany and South Africa. The momentum for democracy, moreover, has been such that, in a kind of reversal of nineteenth century papal pronouncements, John-Paul II’s 1991 encyclical Centissimus Annus proclaimed that ‘the Church values the democratic system inasmuch as it ensures the participation of citizens in making political choices, and guarantees the governed the possibility of both electing and holding accountable those who govern them, and of replacing them through peaceful means when appropriate.’ By the end of the twentieth century the negative suspicion about democracy, and therefore Christian ambivalence towards it, has subsided.
Other historical trajectories have also contributed towards the Christian support for democracy, chief among them being the victory over the totalitarian threats of Facism and Communism in the name of democratic freedom. This has led John De Gruchy to declare rightly that ‘There can be little doubt, then, that the long history of Christian antipathy towards democracy, which began with the Enlightenment and the birth of modernity, is largely at an end.’ Furthermore, over the past two hundred years the Christian faith itself has been transformed in the wake of the rise of critical thinking and associated forms of life initiated by the Enlightenment - pursuing, for example, values of individual freedom, rational scientific enquiry and religious toleration. This has also contributed towards dissolving the Christian ambivalence towards the democratic vision. Certainly there are differences, sometimes sharp differences, between Christian theorists and commentators about how democratic interests are to be achieved. But the celebration of the prior democratic vision as such is shared by all.
If this estimate is true, and there is every reason to think that it is, this does not mean that the Christian relationship to democracy presents no continuing problems. A new ambivalence towards democracy has emerged just at the historic moment when Christian support seems guaranteed. It can be put simply as follows: while Christian support for democratic government is now fully apparent, the Christian voice in public debate struggles to receive a hearing. Some may be tempted to blame Christian complicity in what the Lutheran ethicist, Richard Neuhaus, has called the ‘naked public square’ at the heart of secularised democracy. As there is no intrinsic link between democracy and secularism, in spite of the historical entanglement of the two at the origins of modernity, the bluff of the sovereign myth of secular hegemony can be called. But, from a Christian perspective, the real issue is not Christian complicity in secularity but how precisely might the bluff be called?
One strategy has been that of Neuhaus himself, who drives home the point that without a place for those institutions such as religious communities which act as vehicles of cultural values, the public square lacks moral seriousness and ethical direction. But more is at stake than that, for the vacuum at the heart of the secular dominance of the public square is ready to be filled by an alternative actor. And Neuhaus offers the sober warning: ‘When the democratically affirmed institutions that generate and transmit values are excluded, the vacuum will be filled by the agent left in control of the public square, the state.’
Neuhaus may have exaggerated the absence of moral sensibility in the public square, for secularity has brought gains as well as losses. However, even if he is correct about the absence of informed ethical debate in the public decision-making process, and which reflects the genuine multiplicity of ethical concerns of citizens, there still remains the question of how Christian thought participates in the debates of the democratic public square. These questions are complicated by the facts of Christian diversity - there is no one Christian response to particular issues in democratic contexts - and by the increasingly complex web of contemporary social and political relationships. Christian truth may have a universal import beyond the privatisation of conviction, but that is only part of the Christian dilemma. In the mean time, the case for strengthening the role of the organs of civil society in democracy can scarcely be gainsaid.
Knowing both some of the gains of democracy and observing also the state’s proneness to dominance and control, Christian thought finds itself hovering between seeking to remind the democratic state of those ethical traditions and values within it which find an echo and, in some measure, have their roots in religious and Christian thought (e.g. personal liberty as a political expression and counterpart to religious freedom under God) and challenging the forgetfulness of the democratic state, in the name of prophetic criticism, when the needs of the poor and marginalized are disregarded. These roles are noble enough. Yet there are complicating factors that now present themselves in the light of the processes known as globalisation. In the context of seeking to inject democratic debate with ethical seriousness, and irrespective of any role that particular Christian traditions may have played in a state’s history, it is not obvious that the democratic state should recognise the authority of particular religious institutions over others.
Among the new complexities that are presenting themselves in the post Cold War world it is the rise of multi-faith experience that challenges the debate over values and ethical direction in the democratic society. I have already pointed out that the substitution of secularity for religious values is not a realistic solution to the problem of the absence of an ethical ethos in the public square. Again, as Neuhaus has warned: ‘When particularist religious values and the institutions that bear them are excluded, the inescapable need to make public moral judgments will result in an elite construction of a normative morality from sources and principles not democratically recognized by the society.’ Yet in multcultural and multifaith societies, the values that are available for inclusion do not derive from a single tradition. In these circumstances, how might Christian faith respond to religious rivalry over the values that inescapably inform the public square?
What seems needed is a model of participation in public democratic debate which allows for the particularities of religious and secular voices, seeking common ground while respecting differences, and balancing compromise where necessary with critical solidarity, for the sake of the common good. Such a model must surely be dialogical at heart, if the religions are to develop their democratic political relevance. Further, the model must involve the religions self-critically, if they are both to overcome their historic mistrust of one another and to learn the virtues of provisionality and humility necessary in the context of interpreting and negotiating plurality.
The model which most suggests itself is one built around the notion of a Global Ethic, the most well-known of which was promulgated at the second Parliament of the World’s Religions, Chicago, held in 1993. Based on a four-step dynamic that moves from a diagnosis of the world’s awry condition towards the transcendent transformation of experience into a new consciousness, the basis of the Chicago Global Ethic is the Golden Rule supported by all humane traditions, religious or secular - ‘Treat others as you would want them to treat you’ - and the direction of the Ethic is guaranteed by four ‘irrevocable directives’:
a) commitment to a culture of non-violence and respect for life
b) commitment to a culture of solidarity and a just economic order
c) commitment to a culture of tolerance and a life of truthfulness
d) commitment to a culture of equal rights and partnership between men and women.Cumulatively these commitments lead to the transformation of consciousness that is necessary for future co-operation within democratic nations and in a global environment. At the present time when the notion of a Global Ethic is in embryonic state, it does not lay claim to being anything more than the search for ‘a fundamental consensus on binding values, irrevocable standards, and personal attitudes’. The hope is that it will supply a shared basis on which constructive debate over the future shape of ethical values will be able to maximise survival and global well-being. From a Christian perspective, I am suggesting that the notion of a Global Ethic provides the dialogical matrix whereby Christian faith might engage with the plurality of worldviews, cultures and religions within national and international society as a whole as a means for developing the next steps of democratic society.
The feasibility, even desirability, of a Global Ethic raises numerous further issues. In the context of extending the democratic vision, two can be mentioned here. First, does global ethic thinking in fact amount to a form of implicit imperialism which conceals a dominant single set of western politico-cultural values, thus jeopardizing the intentions of the framers of the Global Ethic? The complaint could be sharpened further: does the perceived homogenising thrust of the notion of a Global Ethic seem to ape too readily the globalizing pretensions of capitalist economics and libertarian politics? Second, in what sense can Christian thought support a Global Ethic? I shall offer a brief comment on each objection.
It is true that global ethic thinking occurs at the same historic moment as other globalizing pressures. But in itself this is scarcely a serious objection. Other movements - e.g. for justice and peace, for environmental protection, for an end to violence and war as a means of settling disputes - display similar globalizing tendencies and no-one doubts the value of their ethical idealism. At a deeper level, an argument for the potentially positive effect of global ethic thinking can be found by comparison with a related set of arguments from the human rights field. The 1948 Universal Declaration on Human Rights is often accused of reflecting purely a western agenda in international politics. While there may be some truth in this accusation, it is also true that the Declaration on Human Rights has established itself as an authoritative reference in virtually all human cultures. Further, a recent world-wide study on Religion and Human Rights reported that peoples suffering from human rights abuses had no problem with the notion of a universal interpretation of human rights, and indeed thought that the importance of the universalism of rights strengthened the application of rights in particular cultural contexts. As one of the authors of the study, Sumner Twiss, has forcefully argued:
… human rights set aspirational norms, and no persuasive case has been made to show that human rights as a goal for all peoples is either illegitimate or unattainable …Why could the same not be said for the broader picture painted in terms of shared values? Participation in shared values, as represented by the notion of a Global Ethic, could also ‘set aspirational norms’ and be neither ‘illegitimate or unattainable’.
Moreover, the group found that many oppressed peoples - regardless of their cultural locations and differences - have little difficulty accepting the ideas of universal rights.What is required is close attention to how cultural and religious values might be protected and helped to participate in a democratic process which is accepted as a universal aspiration. ‘A correctly understood theory of rights,’ writes Jürgen Habermas, ‘requires a politics of recognition that protects the integrity of the individual in the life contexts in which his or her identity is formed.’ The thrust of this argument is towards the development of democratic vision which ensures participation by different cultural and religious groupings, much as theories of individual human rights have been extended to include the rights of cultural communities and the life of the planet as a whole. My argument is that a mediating role played by a Global Ethic enhances the possibilities of participation by religious institutions by encouraging a focus on fundamental values and demands that are shared, while simultaneously stimulating ‘conversation, contention, and compromise among moral actors’, necessary for the celebration of diversity without relativism.
The four directives of the Chicago Global Ethic may strike us at first as being too generalised to be of use when it comes to the negotiation between particular religious values in the public square, and especially when it comes to disputes between religions. On the other hand, they do not represent a bland acceptance of ‘things as they are’, as some critics of a project of a Global Ethic might suppose. Neither do they propose a homogenising approach. For commitment to respect for all life is the basis for a critique of the wanton destruction of local cultures and the militarization of politics; commitment to a just economic order intrinsically questions the long-term benefits of democracy when it is too closely allied with laissez-faire global capitalism; commitment to a life of tolerance and truthfulness honours differences between histories and cultures without erasing distinctivenesses; commitment to partnership between men and women sets the stage for a transformation of personal relationships in most cultures. In other words, within the structures of global ethic thinking there is sufficient scope for both shared values and mutual criticism between traditions.
A Global Ethic is a shared statement of values and principles. If it is desirable and feasible it can only become so in so far as it continues to gain the support of different religious and humanist traditions and communities themselves, and simultaneously remain a self-critical open project. What support therefore might the evolving Christian tradition give to a Global Ethic as an instrument for extending democracy? There are both epistemological and theological sides to this question?
Epistemologically, the requirement is laid on Christian thought to take with full seriousness the provisional nature of all its beliefs, practices and ethos. Both the impact of modern knowledge in urging the symbolic and perspectival view of knowledge and the built-in biblical principle of safeguarding the sovereignty of God argue for greater humility in theological affirmation. At the very least this leads to an openness to different forms of truth and to a dialogical approach in relation to diversity of traditions. No one group, religion, ideology or confession has the final word. We learn from one another in respect, aware that the mystery that infuses us is greater than any one group or tradition can imagine. There is no contradiction between this and Christian principles, though the struggle to establish this might be a difficult task given the suspicion of ‘the other’ in the history of Christian witness itself.
Theologically, Christian support for democracy is built on the sovereignty or rule of God and the announcement of human freedom implied in the Christian ideas of creation and human fulfilment through the liberating impact of the figure of Jesus. Through a commitment to the transformation of human community, in line with the vision of the kingdom, it entails a notion of the common life (common good) which is inclusive and mutual. This mutuality seeks to balance different values over a broad field of achievements - equality of persons balanced with respect for differences, freedom of expression and association with social responsibility balancing self-interest, the right to economic self-determination balanced with a sense of social justice that protects the rights of the poor, the vulnerable and the disadvantaged. Finally, it entails a view of the rule of God, the heart of Jesus’ message, as wider than the Christian instantiation of it, a factor which has long been recognized in dialogical circles. While Christian faith cannot endorse any one political system as being wholly reflective of the rule of God, many theologians nevertheless feel able to take the ‘reasonable risk’ of endorsing certain particular political arrangements over others - and this is likely to be a ‘presumption in favour of democracy’, as Philip Wogaman put it. As the Christian beliefs and values outlined here, albeit absurdly briefly, find a resonance in the ‘four irrevocable directives ‘ of the Chicago Global Ethic, there is every reason why Christian faith can be aligned with its general thrust. In other words, Christian support for extending democracy through the possibilities offered in a Global Ethic can be interpreted as a further ‘reasonable risk’ in line with the presumption for democracy as a whole.
This essay began by noting the historic ambivalence of Christian faith towards the democratic vision. That ambivalence may seem to have been toned down in the light of history itself and Christian theological developments. But there is good reason for retaining a degree of ambivalence. It may be that the democratic vision can be celebrated for the gains it has brought, as Steven Rockefeller has urged it:
The democratic way means respect for openness to all culture, but it also challenges all cultures to abandon those intellectual and moral values that are consistent with the ideals of freedom, equality and the on-going co-operative experimental search for truth and well-being. It is a creative method of transformation. This is its deeper spiritual and revolutionary significance.Yet if Christian faith has been transformed by interaction with that democratic way this does not mean that it remains captive to every proposition of democratic expression. Rockefeller’s ‘experimental search for truth and well-being’ needs also to develop a critical consciousness about democracy’s relationship to other cultural products, particularly where these run roughshod over the needs of the poor and marginalized. In this respect, the political theorist David McLellan has drawn attention to the very different origins of both democratic and religious outlooks, and argues that the latter’s grounding in community and connectedness offers a significant beginnings foe a critique of democracy’s alliance with liberalism and capitalism. Democracy, he avers, is essentially about ‘the ability of ordinary people to control their own lives and make meaningful decisions for themselves’, thus connecting human purpose with other wider concerns such as the environment, but this vision has been hi-jacked by the corrosive effects of unbridled liberalism and capitalism. Cut loose from certain democratic principles such as participation and social inclusivity, economic and political endeavours easily become tyrannous. Yet it is precisely in this area of seeking authentic community that the religious outlook potentially offers most wisdom to democratic thinking, and does so through prophetic criticism:‘The concern for universal human solidarity, the imperatives of social justice, the privileging of the poor, the oppressed and excluded which lie at the heart of the sacred texts of Islam, Judaism and Christianity point us in the right direction.’Once decoupled from liberalism and capitalism, democracy itself can be liberated to serve the needs of citizens and the whole community. McLellan’s point is well made, and points towards a role for the religions of critical solidarity in relation to the democratic state. Moreover, the point is all the stronger for having been made in an inter-religious context.At one level, the Christian support for democracy, utilising the notion of a Global Ethic in the context of plurality, is nothing exceptional. For Christian faith itself, at least in its modern self-critical form, is largely the product of the impact of the Enlightenment values of liberty, equality and toleration, and accompanying intellectual critical patterns of thought. Yet the Chicago Global Ethic points towards a further transformation of values both for democracy itself and for the religions in critical relationship with it. Moreover, the dialogical encouragement at the heart of a Global Ethic implies more than the values of toleration. If Global Ethic thinking is to influence the next phase of democratic life then the religions will need to become more interactive than toleration alone allows. As this begins to happen, we can again concur with John de Gruchy:
Instead of religious pluralism being a problem for the building of common democratic values, it could become a source for the renewal of the democratic vision, as well as for human survival and world peace.In this way religious communities can make their contributions towards public debate and help to reverse the banishment of religion from the public square that was first inflicted during the installation of democracy in the early modern period. Christian support for democracy may have become the dominant persuasion among theologians and the churches, but this does not mean that there is no place for the kind of continued ambivalence associated with notions of critical solidarity and prophetic criticism.
sted July 22 1999
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Last revised 5 March 2000
Copyright © 2000 Ingrid H. Shafer