(The Irish Catholic, 30 June 2011, p. 23)
Mention the word fundamentalism, and it conjures up the image of a religious fanatic who interprets the world through a narrow and coloured lens, intent on imposing this interpretation on others, regardless of their beliefs, blind to reason and deaf to persuasion.
What is fundamentalism? The dictionary defines it as ‘strict maintenance of the fundamental doctrines of a religion.’ (OED) That describes the origin of the term, but today there is more to it. Fundamentalism is absolutist, reactive and defensive. It is as questioning of reason as it is unquestioning of itself. It is severely reductionist: an all-or-nothing, either-or mentality underlies it, subtlety displaced by superficiality. It refuses to engage with those outside its world, except in terms of hostility; dialogue it sees as betrayal. It prioritizes ideology over practicality, sometimes even over reality itself. It is mostly found in times of rapid change, especially among those unprepared for it. It comes where there is loss of confidence in institutions and leaders. It is often indifferent to human welfare.
Many kinds of Fundamentalism
There are many kinds of fundamentalism. There are religious, scientific, philosophical, secularist, economic, and political fundamentalisms. Some examples:
Religious
Karen Armstrong, in The Battle for God, wrote that religious fundamentalism ‘exists in a symbiotic relationship with an aggressive liberalism or secularism, and, under attack, inevitably becomes more bitter, extreme and excessive.’ Religious fundamentalism mistakes certainty for truth. It has the rock-like certainty of the closed mind. It is suspicious of risk, discovery, invention and creativity. It needs bogeymen: anyone from the devil to its critics will do; it needs someone to blame for all that’s wrong, someone to point an accusing finger at. Self-criticism it sees as treason. It sees religion as an inheritance to be preserved more than as a pilgrimage of faith.
But, if a religion cannot face the world as it is, with all its uncertainties and ambiguity, then it does not believe in a living God.
Scientific
Positivism, associated with Auguste Comte, is a form of scientific fundamentalism. It accepts only what is verifiable by the senses, what may be tested under the microscope, so to speak. It accepts reality only on its own terms. Where do love, freedom, justice, the arts, fit into that straitjacket? It seems there is no room for them. Like other fundamentalisms, this one excludes; it is reductionist, clearer on what it is against than what it is for.
Philosophical
Empiricism, the idea all knowledge is derived from sense experience, is positivism’s twin. Its limitations are not as severe when used within the world of science as when it becomes a philosophy of life. Then it is simply unliveable. Rationalism, exalting reason to the diminution or exclusion of faith, emotion or intuition, is another form of fundamentalism. The Austrian philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein wrote that ‘Life is larger than logic.’ True indeed. A dialogue between faith and reason is a necessity in any age.
Secularist
Secularism lacks the intellectual rigour of atheism. It is atheistic, practically if not formally, but hasn’t woken up to the fact. It poses as the defender of pluralism but often demands uniformity and conformity, France’s ban on Muslim women wearing the hijab (face veil) in public being an example. It enforces its ideas through the instrumentality of political correctness. It claims to be tolerant, but becomes uneasy, petulant and exclusivist when religion moves out of the church onto the street – think of the peevish and petty objections to the ringing of the Angelus bell on RTÉ. It poses as the best or the only alternative to religious fundamentalism with a self-approval that is an embarrassment to hear. A ‘secularocracy’ is as likely to be fundamentalist, reductionist, and intolerant as any theocracy.
The German atheist philosopher, Jürgen Habermas, said in an interview in 1999, ‘For the normative self-understanding of modernity, Christianity has functioned as more than just a precursor or catalyst. Universalistic egalitarianism, from which sprang the ideals of freedom and a collective life in solidarity, the autonomous conduct of life and emancipation, the individual morality of conscience, human rights and democracy, is the direct legacy of the Judaic ethic of justice and the Christian ethic of love. This legacy, substantially unchanged, has been the object of a continual critical re-appropriation and re-interpretation. Up to this very day there is no alternative to it. And in light of the current challenges of a post-national constellation, we must draw sustenance now, as in the past, from this substance. Everything else is idle postmodern talk.’ (Time of Transitions, Polity Press, 2006, pp. 150-151.)
Economic
Communism and capitalism are economic fundamentalisms. ‘Trickle-down’ economics, beloved of Ronald Reagan and George Bush senior (though described by Bush as ‘voodoo economics’ when campaigning against Reagan for the Republican nomination in 1979) is more of a flow up than a trickle down. Adam Smith, the ideological father of capitalism, believed in an ‘invisible guiding hand’ which would automatically bring benefit to all if each pursued self-interest. One only has to state that to see how absurd it is: the selfishness of each will redound to the benefit of all. In Ireland, we, the inheritors of the ruins of the Celtic Tiger, know too well what nonsense that is. The unfettered free market is an economic superstition without a moral basis.
Political
There are political fundamentalisms, such as communism, fascism, apartheid, or chauvinism. These say in effect, ‘Follow the party line, obey without question, the ideology explains all, the great leader has the answers.’ There is “excommunication” – or worse – for non-compliance. They have their “inspired” texts (Mein Kampf, Mao’s Little Red Book, and Das Kapital) and guardians of orthodoxy; they have political liturgies, rites of initiation, saints and martyrs (Mayday rallies, Hitlerjugend, Stakhanov, Horst Wessel, etc.) North Korea is an extreme example. A milder illustration comes from Constantin Chernenko, who enjoyed a brief spell of power at the top of the Soviet pyramid. On one occasion his public relations people arranged an on-camera meeting for him with a group of young people. Apparently the intention was to show that he was alert and vigorous, contrary to rumour. All went well until the young people asked him some unscripted questions. Then he snapped at them peevishly, ‘What’s the point of these questions? Haven’t they all been answered before?’ The Soviet system did not long outlast him.
Where do fundamentalisms lead?
Seemingly opposed fundamentalisms often mirror each other, more alike than they are willing to admit. (The similarity in family background, and in personality, between Stalin and Hitler illustrates.) They need and feed each other. Demonizing the other strengthens solidarity within. If the bubble bursts for one, the seeming victory of the other is short-lived. Between them, there is no dialogue, nor any possibility of it; each is a closed and absolutist system. They do not have a problem about using people as means to an end; people are expendable. Fundamentalisms are akin to superstition, and are a form of intellectual suicide.
The best response is dialogue and pluralism.